


The Best Defense

by Nestra



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: sga_flashfic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-03
Updated: 2008-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-02 01:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nestra/pseuds/Nestra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You hadn't really lived until McKay had insulted your intelligence and shoved you out of the way."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Defense

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the sga_flashfic "38 Minutes" challenge, meaning the whole story was written in 38 minutes (more or less).

John was not thinking about Rodney. Absolutely, no way, was he thinking about the smug bastard. Teyla's foot connected with his hip and spun him into the wall, and then he really wasn't thinking about Rodney, but about the bloom of pain spreading down his leg.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

"Nope." His breath hissed out as he pushed himself up and away from the wall. "Just the usual mixture of humiliation and frustration. I should have seen that coming. Show it to me in half-time?"

She performed the movement again, sticks flashing at his shoulder, and as he instinctively turned to block them, her foot nudged his side. "You allow yourself to be distracted by the attack, and your body's movement exposes you."

He nodded, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. "I got it."

Back to sparring, and back to not thinking about Rodney, who'd thrown him out of the lab two hours ago. That was nothing new; Rodney was always throwing people out of the lab. Also out of meeting rooms, the control room, even the mess hall. It was nearly a rite of passage in Atlantis. You hadn't really lived until McKay had insulted your intelligence and shoved you out of the way. But it hadn't seemed like his usual snappishness when he'd told John to get out and stop bothering him. John had actually been hurt for about two seconds before he became disgusted with himself and sought out Teyla for a workout.

He recognized the pattern as Teyla's sticks seemed to aim at his upper body, and he managed to abort his turn half-made. Her kick still connected, but only with a glancing blow that barely registered.

She smiled and said, "Very good." Made him feel like a third-grader who'd managed to remember his multiplication tables, but it was kind of a nice sensation. Still, once he found time, he was going to put together a chess set, and then he'd take pleasure in kicking her ass for a few games.

He took a couple steps back and said, "Okay, let's go again."

It wasn't just the lab, now that he thought about it. In the briefing two days ago, McKay had shouted down every one of his suggestions until he'd had to pull rank to get a word in. The resulting sullen behavior had made the day's mission a special treat for everyone. And now that he thought about it, when he'd walked into the lab to see if McKay had found anything useful in the artifacts they'd recovered, McKay had seemed really angry.

John just couldn't figure out what the hell he had to be angry about.

He spotted a variation on the movement Teyla had just taught him, but not in time to duck the one stick to the stomach and the other to his thigh. Teyla swept his legs out from under him, just to make the whole thing complete.

"Okay, now I'm hurt." He let his head fall back against the mat and considered staying down for a while until everything stopped sucking.

"I apologize. We can stop for the day." She held out a hand to pull him up, and he couldn't ignore it, or the touch of self-satisfaction in her face. As they touched foreheads, he made a mental note to give her a three-pawn handicap. She'd enjoy the false sense of security until he checkmated her.

"You're getting tricky." The pain was settling into post-workout soreness; he stretched his arms over his head, trying to work out a few kinks.

She looked over her shoulder at him as she gathered her equipment. "Sometimes a direct attack camouflages the attacker's true intentions. Is this not true in your ways of fighting?"

"Yeah," Sheppard said slowly. "It is." Rodney had moved his chair away from him at the briefing, huffing in exasperation. And he'd twitched when John had stepped up next to him in the lab, right before he'd called John an idiot. "Huh."

"Did you say something, Major?"

"Nothing, Teyla." What would happen if he grabbed Rodney's arm next time they met in the hall? If he caught him alone in the lab and laid a hand on the nape of his bent neck? What if next time Rodney threw him out of a room, he refused to go? "Just...planning my next attack."


End file.
